


Winter Dragons

by Silversong203



Series: The Dragon Has Three Heads [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arranged Marriages, Cause I'm Not Good At Writing it, Dragonlord Daenerys Targaryen, Dragonlord Jaemon Targaryen, Dragonlord Jon Snow, Everyone lives, Except Aerys, F/M, Jon Snow Has a Twin, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Mild Smut, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Past Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, R Plus L Equals J And J, R Plus L Equals J | Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen are Jon Snow's Parents, Strong North, the dragon has three heads, the pack survives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28165428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silversong203/pseuds/Silversong203
Summary: Instead of taking Lyanna south to Dorne. Rhaegar gives her back to Brandon before he ends up getting himself and those he traveled with towards King's Landing killed by a mad dragon. Promising Lyanna he’d come back for her when the time is right.Please read Tags
Relationships: Aegon Targaryen (Son of Elia)/Original Female Character(s), Ashara Dayne/Brandon Stark, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia)/Willas Tyrell, Robert Baratheon/Lynesse Hightower
Series: The Dragon Has Three Heads [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097324
Comments: 65
Kudos: 149





	1. Lyanna

The only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the hearth as the fire burned a bright hue of red and orange flames inside of her father's solar, as he continued to burn all her letters along with her circlet of blue winter roses that had already grown withered. Yet she kept her chin up, all the same, they were all small tokens from her prince that would sooner be replaced once he came for her.

"Do you have any idea what you have done Lyanna?" Rickard shouted, uncaring if his guards heard or Benjen for that matter who he was sure would be the first to await his sister with open arms needing to comfort her. Brandon he knew was still seething from his father telling him to stand down. While Ned, he was sure was on his way back to Winterfell.

Of course, she knew what she had done. She had married for love and not for her father's ambitions in forcing her to marry Robert Baratheon. A man who made her skin crawl like she was covered in spiders. Just the thought of the whoring drunk oaf made her shudder in displeasure. 

"Well, are you even going to answer me, girl? Or are you just going to stand there?"

_Love was the death of duty._ "I thought I already did father," she did not miss the way his nose flared, or the glare he sent her way. Lyanna also didn't miss the way his hands twitched at his sides seemingly ready to slap what he called sense into her, which she awaited.

Rickard turned from her to his maester, the older man had kept silent the entire time watching the two snarling wolves go back and forth at each other. "Do you see how she disrespects me Walys? Pray tell me what father would allow such folly, without having her removed from my presence and the North before all seven hell breaks loose because of her foolish actions." Rickard shouted even higher.

"None my Lord, I always warned you the girl was too wild and needed discipline. Now she has gone and made a fool of herself and that of House Stark."

Lyanna could feel her temper getting the best of her, "how have I made a fool of myself or that of my house?"

"By turning yourself into a whore of the crown prince, Lyanna. What lord would want to marry you now?" Rickard released a shaky breath, his chest was hurting. Girls were supposed to be easy. "I would be surprised if I can manage to get one of my minor lords to take you for a wife or get a third son to marry you girl." Rickard shot back stunning Lyanna in the spot she stood, unable to move or think straight. She wasn't a whore, she was Rhaegar's wife, a princess of the realm.

"I'm not his whore, I am his wife," Lyanna snarled like the direwolf she was. "We married at the Isle of Faces and consummated our marriage, and there is nothing you nor Brandon or anyone else can say to change that. I am Rhaegar's wife, a princess of the realm and soon to be a queen of Westeros once he removes his father."

Rickard didn't know if he should be ashamed of his daughter or just saddened that she was so easily fooled, maybe it was his fault for allowing her to do whatever she wanted while keeping her sheltered. "My dear sweet summer child, you are no one, not a maiden because you so easily gave up your maidenhead to a man who just wanted a quick tumble." Rickard grimaced before letting out the last of his words. "You weren't even worth him taking you on as much as a soft feathered bed like his true wife Elia Martell. You weren't even taken on a bed made of straws or hay. Instead, he took you in the woods like an animal. Then sent you back North to face me alone with not even a kingsguard by your side or a letter explaining himself." Rickard turned to face his maester. "Walys are members of the royal family not given kingsguards to guard them at all times?"

"They are my lord."

Rickard waved his hand back towards his oak table that was filled with scrolls from his many lords along with a flask of ale. "Tell me, child, if you really were his wife, why hasn't it been announced to the realm? The Targaryens follow the Faith of the Seven, shouldn't your prince had married you in the Sept of Baelor for all the realm to see as he did for Elia Martell? Or marry you in any of the many Septs around the Riverlands where it would be witnessed? Though I am sure you know no Septon would ever do such a thing, not even a drunk one would marry a man known to the realm that was already married. No, my dear, he fooled you and used both ser Arthur and Oswell to pretend to be witness to your so-called union. I can guarantee this to you, both those men would lie for their prince if he told them to do so. They can simply say their prince never married you."

Lyanna could feel the tears prickle at the back of her eyes, she would not let them fall, she would not let her father see her cry, no matter how defeated she now felt. "He will come for me." She whispered, "Rhaegar will come for me you will see father, I will prove it to you."

"No, he won't come child, not if he wants to anger his mad father or Dorne." Rickard sighed before facing his maestor, "it is best we prepare, plus I need you to write out a formal letter to the Eyrie to Robert to break his and Lyanna's betrothal."

Lyanna could feel her chest tighten, not because her father was breaking her betrothal to Robert Baratheon, which she gladly welcomed."Are you going to war father?" It was bad enough ser Arthur had to hold Brandon back before he did anything reckless and stupid to Rhaegar, but now she wondered if her father was willing to go to war with the crown for her honor?

"War? No, my dear, the maester and I will need to go over our food grains and supplies, no one is to leave or enter Winterfell anytime soon."

"What of Brandon's marriage his betrothal?" Lyanna asked not understanding what game her father was now playing. Wasnt he but a few moons ago eager to sell his children to the highest bidder for his ambitions?

"Hoster broke the betrothal between Brandon and Catelyn, he no longer wants to be joined with our house, fearful of what's to come."

"I don't understand," Lyanna remarked suddenly feeling bile rise from her throat as she carefully swallowed it back down before she emptied her stomach on the stone floors.

"It means he doesn't want to put his daughter in danger, there is no telling who might come for us or you specifically to garner favor with the mad king or Dorne itself. Not to mention Tywin Lannister if word gets out about you and Rhaegar. If you are pregnant now like I suspect, there is no telling what Tywin Lannister or Dorne would do."

"Is this your way of asking to drink moontea or tanzy?"

Rickard raised his hand stopping her from even saying anything more, "to ask this of you is treason, even if the child you carry is a royal bastard."


	2. Ashara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the more I think of it and the fact that in Ned’s inner thoughts he never thinks of Ashara or the stillborn daughter she gave birth to. The more I am convinced that child belonged to Brandon. I also don’t buy into the Ashara married Howland Reed theory and that Meera and Jojen are their children. Though I do think Allyria is that said daughter she gave birth to.  
> Also since there are no names listed for Arthur and Ashara Dayne’s older brother, I’m just gonna name him Alaric, though the name Alec was a close second 🤔

* * *

  
She could barely hold herself up emptying her stomach for the fourth time that day, trying to balance one hand on the rough surface of the ironbark tree next to her, while the other over her ever-growing bump.

Feeling the stinging after affects in her eyes that remained wet, while her lips trembled from the biting cold that was the North.

This was never how she expected her life to turn out, growing heavy with child while having her older brother and lord of Starfall accompanying her to Winterfell demanding lord Richard Stark have his son and heir do right by his sister, end his betrothal to Catelyn Tully and marry her instead. Especially when both families were of the first men, and held honor at a greater regard than most other houses.

And now here she was but an hour away from Wintertown at a small snow drift along the side of the Kingsroad emptying her stomach once more, her brother Alaric none too pleased at being delayed, believing her to be staling there party of seven guards along with Wylla who was to be her wet nurse once she gave birth.

One would think that said woman would be here next to her holding her hair or just rubbing her back giving her words of encouragement that it would all work out as she heaved, instead of being tucked away in barely warm wheelhouse, never stepping outside of it until they stopped to setup camp for the night. Causing Ashara to wonder how the woman could ever hold her bladder that long when all she did was need to pee ever so often.

Though she knew the need to constantly pee came with being with child. Something she experienced first hand being around—, Ashara stopped herself then, not wanting to think of the princess, who sent her back to Dorne. Claiming that even on Dragonstone there was no way for her to entertain an unwed expectant mother without anyone finding out.

And thus here she was with a very pissed brother who didn’t even allow her to remain at Starfall for a sennight regardless if Dorne had no problem when it came to bastards. Her brother it seemed was cut from a different stem, demanding to know who she laid with. And once she uttered the name Brandon Stark, her brother made arrangements for a ship to take them to White Harbor where clothes were bought for the weather, since all they wore were clothes one wore in warm climate of Dorne.

“Are you done my lady?” Looking up from where she all but emptied her stomach, Ashara wanted nothing more than to chase the man away knowing her brother had only sent his personal guard to hurry her along, probably thinking she had ran off into the woods only for a wildcat or wolf to maul her down easily.

Ashara huffed at the thought before facing the guard once more. How many years had she’d known Olice? Only for him to treat her like everyone else as a disappointment to her house.   
  


Men could fuck whoever they wanted without worrying about the consequences, while ladies were supposed to keep their maidenheads intact until marriage. “Tell my brother there is no need to worry, I have not ran off nor have I went and gotten myself mauled over.”

* * *

Ashara looked around lord Stark’s solar noticing there was hardly anything inside of it, except for the roaring hearth, a few scrolls, ledgers and a flagon of ale, that he’d offered her brother, excusing himself for not having wine knowing how much southerners enjoyed the sweet tart or sour taste.

”I am sorry it’s taking my guards this long to find my son, even after I gave specific orders that no one was supposed to leave the castle unless under my instruction.” Rickard responded drumming his right hand on his desk, avoiding Ashara and her haunting violet eyes.

Ashara would’ve sooner told the man to have his guards search the brothels or taverns around Wintertown for his son, but after arriving with her brother and guards unannounced to a heavily guarded Winterfell she knew something was wrong, even their maester eyed them suspisously. Though lord Stark barely looked her way or towards her growing bump, probably already used to his son’s antics. Though she supposed he never thought his son would ever be so careless as to bed a lady of a great house and leave her with child.

”Come in,” she heard lord Stark say, never hearing the door knock as Brandon stalked inside, his hair disheveled while his clothes looked like he’d hurried to put them on. Seems they found him with one of the servants, Ashara thought annoyed with herself for even falling for this man’s charms even after knowing he was promised to someone else.

”You sent for me father?” Brandon asked not taking notice of who else was present until his grey eyes fell on her, causing Ashara to sink deeper in the barely cushioned chair that was already hurting her back as she cradled her bump, noticing how pale white Brandon seemed to turn, his face ashen and eyes almost seeming to bulge out of their sockets.

”I take it from the way you’re eyeing my sister you know our reason to have traveled here without delay, not wanting this child to be a bastard.” Alaric said, his purple eyes never leaving Brandon’s while lord Stark seemed to have bowed his head in shame.   
Whatever thought he had that his sister may have told a fib to somewhat trap his son, seemed to have fallen by the wayside. “I take it you along with your lord father will do right by my sister and end your betrothal to lord Hoster Tully’s daughter and marry my sister instead. Our two families are that of the first men, we take our honor seriously.”

Rickard wanted to retort what lord Dayne said when it came to honor. Where was his younger brother’s honor when it came to that of his daughter. But kept numb on that discussion. They were here to discuss what his wild son had done. It seemed both Brandon and Lyanna were in competition on who would bring destruction to their house first.

”There is no need to concern yourself with Hoster Tully’s daughter, my son will marry your sister.” Rickard said, not once removing his eyes off his son, knowing they must have found him with a servant in his room. He would need to talk to him later after the lady and her brother left to get ready for the wedding. “I take it you would sooner have them marry right away though Winterfell has no sept. We worship the old gods here in the North, though there are some who worship the seven. The Manderly’s come to mind.”

“My family is not overly religious my lord, a northern wedding in front of your heartstree will do.” Alaric replied, yet all Ashara could do was remain silent knowing she had no say in her marriage, nor did Brandon to an extent, they were both puppets on a string being molded together.

* * *

”You can at least show some kind of emotion sister, you’re about to be wed and your child not born a bastard.”   
  


Ashara wanted to do nothing but tell her brother off, as they entered inside of Winterfell’s Godswood noticing some of the servants and guards holding up lanterns to guide their path, as her eyes fell on all three Stark brothers standing next to their sister who remained hidden the enter day, not once coming to see her, or help her dress. Next to them their father stood in front of the heartstree it’s carved out face seemed to be judging her, while it’s eyes bleed red from the sap oozing out of it.

”Who comes before the old gods tonight?” Rickard said looking at his future good daughter who seemed to want to be anywhere but there getting married to his son.

”Ashara of house Dayne, a woman grown and noble, comes to beg the blessing of the old gods.”

  
“Who comes to claim her?” Alaric asked waiting for Brandon to say something back, the man seeming just as lost as his sister to this union. Both idiots not wanting anything to do with the other. Yet it would dammed if he saw this child born a bastard.

Benjen nudged his brother knowing Ned wasn’t going to do it, since he was still angry with there older brother. “Answer him stupid before father disinherits you.”

”Brandon of house Stark,” Brandon answered unsure if being disinherited was such a bad idea. Just when he was getting used to the idea of never marrying anytime soon or if ever. The old gods had another plan for him. “Who gives her?”

”Alaric of house Dayne, her brother and lord of Starfall.”

Lord Stark looked from his son back to Ashara Dayne feeling sorry for the woman, not knowing if he should even utter the last part of the ceremony, yet gave in not wanting bastards running around Winterfell. “Ashara do you take this man?”

What was she supposed to say? No, I don’t take this man? Her brother would’ve sooner dragged her back. “I take this man.”

Rickard made the two bow before the heartstree before lady Ashara was cloaked under house Stark’s protection, taking notice the two married fools did nothing but kiss on the cheek, as if they had only just met today and were ordered to wed. There would be no need to even consummate their marriage this night since the lady’s growing bump was proof enough they did that moons ago.


	3. Elia

She could feel their icy cold eyes that never radiated warmth since she married the crown prince, watching her, judging her, though there were but a few whose eyes held a flicker of pity for her. As Elia held her head on high, the tail of her skirt flowing across the red floor in rippled waves, _unbowed, unbent, unbroken!_

She was a princess of Dorne before becoming one of the Seven Kingdoms, she would not break before Aerys Targaryen's trusted loyalists, no matter what insults the mad dragon hurled her way to spite her.

Elia reminded herself, the closer she approached the mad king who sat atop his chair made of swords, a slight smirk etching across his thin chapped lips gripping the sharpened edges of that said chair tighter.

She was sure as her nameday there was a new cut there somewhere on his thin and gaunt body. What she wouldn't give to witness him tumble over on that chair, never to reign terror on all those he felt beneath the seed of the dragon. Not even his family was safe from his madness since he saw enemies in everyone, taking great pleasure in the misery he brought them and everyone else.

How many innocents have there been who have been judged by him for nothing more than going hungry? Stealing a loaf of bread just to feed themselves, or their family? Only to be captured by the goldcloaks and brought before the madman, where he would get some kind of twisted pleasure and satisfaction in watching them burn by wildfire. Just to visit the queen's chamber thereafter, where he would get off thinking himself a living fire breathing dragon when he was no more than a welp. The iron throne had already rejected him, his scabs were proof enough.

Below him to his right, sitting still with her back poised, hair twisted in a halo where a pearl crown sat atop, hands folded delicately in her lap, a blue dress covering her entire body going as far up towards her neck, no doubt hiding another bruise, was the queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

A woman despite how regal she looked and behaved in front of others held sadness between those dark purple irises of hers. The only thing that ever brought her joy was her children and grandchildren who she adored, _maybe a little too much._ Her eldest was the living proof of that as Elia's dark eyes flickered to where her husband stood stoic and lean below the throne, dressed in all black. _How befitting that they were both dressed in black?_ She supposed since this was all but the end of their marriage, mayhaps not on paper, but in the marriage bed. Especially now with ravens flying all across the Seven Kingdoms, the mad king wanting everyone to know his son had taken a second wife.

There's was never a marriage for love or passion but that of duty, a duty she expected her lord husband to honor, even if she was of Dorne where lords and ladies were known to take lovers and have paramours. Yet what Rhaegar had done was unforgiving, not only had he put her life in danger but that of her children, and even the northern girl he had so foolishly taken for a second wife, though their marriage was done in front of a Weirwood on the Isle of Faces and not before the faith of the seven where noble lords and ladies would bare witness to their union. 

Most in the south worshiped the gods of the Andals, the high septon himself was already calling the marriage false and whatever children from that union bastards, claiming tree gods held no sway in the south. Even if there were but a few houses in the south that kept the faith in the old gods. The Blackwoods came to mind.

Falling into a small curtsy with her head held high, it would seem she would never get anything out of her mouth except for _'your grace,'_ as the insults started straight away, while her husband and uncle stood there still allowing the mad dragon to spew his hate towards her and his wife.

"Because of my worthless wife never giving me a daughter for my son, I allowed him to marry you due to the drop of Targaryen blood your family shared with mine. Never knowing how sickly you were since your lying mother kept that from us. And now because of you both, the dragon had to seek the cold cunt of a wolf's bitch diluting our blood further."

Elia did not miss the way Rhaegar flinched or how his hands tightened into a fist before releasing them, placing that mask of indifference back up while his father continued.

"And now because of his folly and your failure in furthering our line, betrothals have to be made and have been made. That daughter of yours you can either marry her off to your brother's son, since she smells Dornish, or the Tyrell heir, while your son Aegon shall marry a daughter of House Baratheon since my good for nothing son almost started a war with the Baratheon's. The only thing Robert and his lords accepted was a betrothal with a future king after he declined my offer of Rhaenys to his brother Renly. Though I suppose this is a win for our house, the Targaryen blood is stronger in the Baratheon's than the small ounce your family has. It was a pity Steffon never had a daughter or managed to find Rhaegar a noble wife of Valyrian birth."

_'No, please not my children,'_ Elia wanted to scream, for all of Westeros to hear, from the furthest reaches of the North to the southernmost point of Dorne to hear her agony, rip the dress she wore, beg for her Rhaenys and Aegon, they were too young for such things. She wanted them to have a life before betrothals were even announced. But when she looked at her husband she could see it written all over his face. He knew about this, he was willing to suffer and sacrifice their own children for his stupid prophecy needing the third head, a daughter she could not give him, _his so-called precious Visenya._

How much more was she to suffer in this marriage? First, she had to leave her home and people, only to be insulted by the likes of Aerys Targaryen whenever they visited the Red Keep. Be humiliated by her husband in front of so many lords and ladies when he rode past her and crowned Lyanna Stark the queen of love and beauty. Send her best friend away due to her falling prey to another Stark who got her with child, and now for this to happen. It was too much, she had given her all for this marriage, suffered through two childbirths that left her on bed rest for months, only to be told, she could never carry another child.

There was a ringing in her ears that would not stop causing Elia to place hands over them, as her breathing slowed, no longer able to concentrate, the faces of her precious children flashed before her eyes, causing her to stumble backward, never knowing whose strong arms held onto her as darkness embraced her thereafter.

Never hearing the last line of words the mad king spewed, regarding his two sons and wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seasons of my Love


	4. Ned

He felt like a stranger just being here, the once cold air of the North that once welcomed him in his youth with open arms was now stifling as he passed servants on his way towards Winterfell's Godswood. His heart could no longer suffer being inside of the grey castle walls of his home any longer, not with the two reminders of his brother's transgressions living where he had to face them daily, never a moment of escape.

Especially not with the way his father cooed over his first grandchild and the future heir to the North, a babe that should've come from his seed and not Brandon's. His brother knew how he felt for the lady, knew how shy he was in approaching her, and ask for her to dance with him back at Harrenhall all those moons ago.

_And why would he not have been?_ Ashara was one of the most beautiful maiden he'd ever laid his grey eyes on, small of frame, hair long and dark like midnight, and eyes so violet they were haunting to look into without losing one's breath or train of thought. And even now with only have given birth but a moon ago, the lady still looked just as fair.

While his brother, Ned sneered at the thought, was promised to another, to a warden's daughter no less, not that Brandon could ever keep his cock in his breeches for long without seeking to shove it inside someone for a time. Though he was surprised no whispers or rumors about his brother having a quick romp in the furs with a serving wench have circulated throughout the castle. It seemed Brandon may have been taking his vows seriously, yet he doubted his brother would ever keep to one bed, even with a woman like Ashara, for a wife.

_Others take him!_

And now with ravens flying all across the Seven Kingdoms proclaiming his sister Lyanna, Rhaegar's second wife, and whatever child that came from their union a prince or princess of house Targaryen, Ned knew his stay at Winterfell had come to an end. He would need to travel to Storm's End and seek out the only person who he knew was suffering the same way he was, _from the torment of a broken heart,_ a brother all but in blood and name. The one he truly knew would never do to him what Brandon did, no matter Robert's faults.

Walking past two Stark guards who bowed their heads and held the ironwood door open for their lord's second-born, both saying in unison, "Lord Eddard," as Ned brushed past them not bothering to acknowledge either, his thoughts muddled no longer with that of Brandon. But that of his lord father instead and how he would approach him with his need to leave the North for the south, knowing his father's wishes on not wanting any of his children to leave until things calmed down. Which only the gods knew when, since no man truly knew what was in the hearts of others.

Stopping to look at the grey granite walls of the East Gate, pulling his cloak tighter knowing that way led out towards the Kingsroad, towards freedom, Ned wondered once more not for the first time if he could ever scale the walls and survive if his father denied him from leaving. 

It was a fool's thought, yet he didn't care as he moved past the high walls of hundred feet noticing the gates that led towards the Godswood open, no doubt his sister was in there praying for her precious prince to come and save her from their father and bring her south to King's Landing.

Humming to himself walking deeper inside passing by trees that stood there for hundreds of years, before turning right noticing the small figure sitting on the trunk of the Heartstree, her head rested against its whitebark while the red leaves swayed in the wind back and forth. Causing Ned to stop in his tracks not knowing if his sister was awake or just resting her eyes, knowing how tired a woman could get once she was with child. Even his willful sister who always had more energy than most seemed to have lost half that energy, always wanting to be alone. Not even Benjen was able to break whatever spell Rhaegar must have placed over his sister, then again the spell that was love once cast upon one's heart was always the hardest to break. Another reason why he needed to flee from this place before he ended up like his sister, wallowing in self-pity for a lover that would never come, or in his case, a lover that would never be his.

Walking past the dark pools some claimed to have come from an iced dragon named Winter that fell trying not to frighten his sister whose dark brown hair cover her face.

"Lya are you awake?" He asked moving closer towards her small frame as she stirred raising her head towards him, her grey eyes hollowed and red with dark circles around them, causing Ned to curl his hands into a fist at the suffering his sister placed on herself and the unborn child she carried, though one would not know with all the furs Lyanna wore.

"Ned," she replied a thin smile tugging at her lips never knowing what to expect from her brother she knew remained angered at what she did to his best friend. "Did you come out here to pray? Am I disturbing you?" She asked her words trailing off, her eyes landing on the face carved into the Heartstree staring into its haunting eyes that oozed out red sap.

"Are you well? Do you need me to help you back inside where you can find solace in a warm bed?" Ned asked stepping closer towards her.

"I am well." She lied, not wanting to look at her brother or anyone else for that matter. Not needing to hear their warnings or chastise her for being a fool.

"You don't seem well to me Lya, you look like someone who could use a good sleep and some meat on your small frame. Or did you forget that you have another life inside of you that needs you to remain healthy?"

"You sound like old Nan," Lyanna mused recalling the woman not leaving her room until she ate all the venison stew she placed in front of her, claiming if she had to force it down her mouth she would herself.

"Well someone has to look out for you since your precious prince is nowhere to be found, not that I expect him to ever show up here."

"You are wrong, he will come for me Ned, he said he would and I know he will, even if it takes a thousand years he will come for me." She hissed standing on her feet, only to stop in place, her legs wobbly and cold from lack of movement. She was both hungry and tired and needed a good rest for her and the child she carried.

"No, he won't come, Lya, if no one else will tell you this then let me be the one to talk sense into you or give you an idea just how tricky southern politics can be." Ned paused before continuing. "The king may have acknowledged the marriage between you and his son to save face, but the high Septon along with the lords in the south, especially those in Dorne will never accept this child you carry. There is no telling how one might go to put an end to your life or that of Elia and her children just to get their daughters to wed the crown prince."

He could see the tears forming in her eyes most likely his foolish sister never thought of the ramifications of her actions as he placed a hand on her wrist to keep her in place. "Not only have you and Rhaegar hurt Elia sweet sister, but you have also broken the heart of a man who would've worshiped the ground you walked on if only you had given him a chance to prove that love to you."

She pressed her thin lips into a scowl, releasing her hand from his, her normally grey eyes dark with hatred while her voice cut through him like valyrian steel, "and here I thought you were just here to speak comfort to me, instead I should have known better that you were just waiting to speak fondly once more of that man I have no love in my heart for, a man who would've never kept to my bed."

Ned had to laugh to himself, blaming his father for sheltering Lyanna instead of sending her south like most highborn ladies to learn what life in the south was truly like. Even their aunt Branda Stark who resided in the Stormlands with her husband would've taught Lyanna the games of the south. "Yet you took it upon yourself to lay with a man that was already married with two children, pray save me your tale of love is sweet and that it can never change a man's heart when you have given yourself over to a man that didn't keep to his wife's bed."

He felt the stinging slap before being able to utter any more words as his sister picked up the skirts of her blue wool dress, sparing him not another glance, knowing fully well he deserved it, but knowing he had to tell her the truth.


	5. Lyanna II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so Lyanna might come off a little ooc here, but honestly, there is not much known of her, and since this is medieval times, I would suspect a mother would act like this I guess?

* * *

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned into moons and with that, her womb grew into what it was today, forcing Lyanna to breathe deeply squinting her eyes back open trying to get enough air into her lungs while the pain in her lower abdomen started becoming unbearable the longer she stood leaning against the wall of the maester's turret trying to gather her witts rolling her head back and forth. She could do this, _she would do this._

The crisp cold morning air blew across her flushed cheeks causing her to pull her black cloak tighter around her not wanting the chill to sweep inside of her bones, regardless of how her body was sweating with so many layers on, as she wiped her forehead with the back of her right hand while the left held tightly to her parchment she spent days writing, never truly knowing what to put on paper.

What used to take but a few minutes, now took an hour as she tried convincing her wobbly legs she was almost there, she could hear the ravens just above the stone steps where the rookery was located. All she needed was to convince her feet to move and take her up the steps before old Nan realized she had snuck just before dawn out of her room while the old woman slept in the cot next to her bed. 

Gods the trouble she would be in once she returned to her room, along with the harsh scolding she would receive for her stupidity in going outside alone, caused Lyanna to sigh deeply knowing old Nan might just go along with her threat about having her tied to the bed for disobeying her order to remain inside.

Yet looking back up the grey stone steps Lyanna knew it would be worth the trouble and the time it took just to walk over here on the snow-covered ground undetected, without alerting a single guard.

She knew where to move and when to hide, since, unlike her older brothers who were sent away to be fostered by their father, while she and Benjen had to remain at Winterfell, where her younger brother got to train with the master of arms after he was done with his lessons with the maester.

While she spent her days learning how to run a castle from old Nan, unlike most girls in the south who learned to be a lady and be obedient to their husbands from their septa. No wonder when maester Walys arrived he called her wild since most of her free time was spent alone wandering the castle or riding within the Wolfswood with Stark guards, at times pretending she was a captured ward of Lord Rickard Stark, who had to do everything that he said if she ever wanted to be free one day. Pity the freedom that was offered came with the condition of marrying Robert Baratheon. The picture image of the man her brother Ned called ' _muscled like_ _a maiden's fantasy,'_ made her want to heave. Maybe he was the fantasy for some, but he certainly was not one for her.

Staring through the open doorway out across the snow-covered grounds and trees, it was funny how pretend now became reality. Now she felt like a prisoner in her own home, watched over and monitored at all times now after three moons ago when she tried to get a raven sent to King's Landing only for Brandon to rip that said scroll apart, his lips twitching when he barked at her calling her a foolish girl for still thinking Rhaegar held any love or affection for her.

Once his words would have not affected her but after moons of not hearing anything from Rhaegar or him coming with a small army to free her, only made Brandon's words cut deeper than valyrian steel, his eyes cold as ice.

Causing her to hurt him right back with her words, taunting him that if it wasn't for Rhaegar both he and the men he traveled with would've died and their innocent blood would've been on him for even listening to the tale Pertyr Baelish spun about her husband kidnapping her along with Targaryen men heading south towards the capital.

Brandon was always full of what their father called wolfsblood, the same blood he also claimed she also had a bit of that causing their tempers to flare like two snarling direwolves trying to hurt the other with their words not backing down or stepping back and thinking clearly.

Yet who was the bigger idiot for believing the said man you had only just wounded but a few weeks ago, who also was turned out from Riverrun by Hoster Tully himself, and told to return to the Fingers.

Her older brother was a fool to even believe such a thing, from Littlefinger, if anything Brandon should've realized from the start how obsessed Petyr was with Catelyn Tully and the way he would lie and kill just to get him out of the way. 

_Foolish oaf_ she, growled only to seize from her thoughts feeling another sharp pain this one stronger at the bottom of her stomach causing her to bend over pinching her lips together as not to scream waking the maester, as she waited for the pain to subside, she needed to get to the top of the steps, send her scroll.

Holding to the rail Lyanna allowed her legs to take her where she needed to be gasping for air the further up she went, thanking the old gods no longer caring if maester Walys heard her when she shoved the door open needing to find the right raven that would take her message to Rhaegar.

* * *

Walys hurried inside of the rookery leaving the warmth of his bed, hearing the ravens squawking loudly, worried the wooden shutters at the window must have opened or the fire in the hearth going out making the birds freeze, just to be stunned in place at what he saw before his eyes in the opened doorway. "My lady, how did you get over here alone with no help? You should not be up here."

"And why shouldn't I? Is Winterfell no longer my home? If it is not pray tell my father to release me from this prison." Lyanna snapped at the old maester, causing Walys to step back in an unthreatening way not to offend or cause the lady any distress in her condition, it wasn't safe for her or _him._

'My lady because you are heavy with not one child but two, you should not be up here in the rookery, climbing the steps, or any steps for that matter. You should be in bed resting." _It seems I may have to request guards be posted outside her room just to keep her in one place._

"You said I was allowed to walk." She replied hotly, knowing it was a lie, yet would not be backing down from her stance or what she came here to do, she would get this scroll sent one way or the other.

It was a pity there would be no way to send herself. Unless one-day Rhaegar actually managed to hatch one of the three dragon eggs he had, then he would be able to free her like one of those silly maidens from one of the stories where knights fought against armies just to free the woman they loved who was locked away in a high tower. Or in her case a castle of high grey walls.

This was not the advice he gave her and she knew it was not. _Gods, why did the citadel send him here to be tortured by not only the cold but by this girl?_ "Only inside of your chambers my lady, nowhere else. There is a reason why I have requested that your meals be brought to you." _The seven help him if the wild girl doesn't stay put in her room or do as he asks._

Unconsciously running a hand against his throat, Walys wasn't sure who would remove his head first if something ever happened to the girl or the babes she carried inside of her. Would it be lord Rickard Stark or Brandon who would remove his head with Ice? _Or maybe the crown prince would do it himself?_

Suddenly the old maester felt dread take hold of him not wishing to be burnt by wildfire, knowing that Aerys now referred to the wild substance as house Targaryen's champion.

Lyanna didn't get another word out to dispute the maester, seeing Walys eyes go wide hearing the trickling of water coming from her, "no," Lyanna begged reaching for the wooden chair by the great oak table where the scrolls she was searching through were littered wanting to see if any were there from Rhaegar.

"Stay here my lady, I need to get a few guards to get you safely back to the Great Keep and into your room before you give birth in here."

_"No, please, not yet."_ Lyanna shrieked trying to mask another pain. "Please I need you to send this to King's Landing in front of me where I can see that you sent it instead of burning it."

"My lady I would never," he did not get to finish his sentence when the she-wolf snarled at him in contempt.

"Don't think I don't know that perhaps you and my father have been burning whatever scroll that comes here from the capital for me."

"I do not wish to argue with you in your condition, those babies are coming my lady. But just so you know, the only ravens that have been received from the capital have all been for lady Stark from princess Elia."

Lyanna took a step back, "liar, I don't believe you." She shrieked feeling the tears pool into her eyes, shaking nervously. _Could both Brandon, Ned, and her father speak true?_ The only one who seemed to be on her side was Benjen since she kept her distance from Ashara, never wanting the woman near her. Believing she was spying on her and sending messages back to the Dornish princess on the condition of her and the babes she carried. And now with maester Walys all but saying the only ravens that come to Winterfell was between Ashara and Elia, made her feel within her bones it to be true.

What other reason would Ashara have to try and be her friend? Didn't she have Wylla for that? 

Lyanna didn't want to be the Dornish woman's friend, she didn't want to be anyone's friend, only wishing to leave this place with her babes, another sharp pain caused her to grab a tighter hold onto the table as she cried out in pain. Her children were coming.

"By the seven my lady wait here," Walys yelled at the girl, his old legs taking him fast down the steps, cursing at not taking a warmer cloak, waving a guard down out of breath. "You look strong enough pray help me get lady Lyanna safely from atop the rookery and into the Great Keep and into her bed, the babes are coming now."

The guard's green eyes went wide, looking above where the rookery was removing his sword at once handing it to the maester, "how in seven hells did lord Stark's daughter get out of her room?" The guard barked annoyed.

"Why don't you tell me that since I am the one who found her, shouldn't you and the remaining night guards be keeping an eye out for things like this?" Walys yelled back. 

"I was on my way to the kitchens my shift hasn't begun yet," the guard yelled back leaving the maester who was breathing heavily at the entrance at the bottom of the steps, racing upwards above the steps, only to find lady Lyanna in a pool of her own fluids bent over with a scroll in hand clutched tightly in her grey rabbit gloves. "My lady." He would've asked how she managed to sneak out with no one seeing her, but growing up in the North, everyone knew just how stealthy the she-wolf was, even a fourth son of house Tallhart who chose to become a guard of house Stark instead of going to the Wall.

"Eldric," Lyanna spoke softly like the wind barely loud enough for him to hear her.

"Hush now," he advised scooping her up as two more guards he knew who worked the night shift came rushing inside both saying the same thing at once.

"We never saw milady leaving the Great Keep."

"Take that up with any three of her brothers, or lord Stark himself, just clear a path for me, or go tell the serving wenches to get hot water ready for the midwives and the maester," Eldric advised as both men scurried away in front of him.

* * *

Pacing the stone floors while his father and brothers looked on worry evident on their facial expressions, while his wife who for the most part sat and watched the door, never leaving even after Lyanna screamed she wanted her out not trusting or wanting her inside the room, fearing Ashara would bring harm to her and her babes.

Causing Brandon to be taken aback like everyone else who was present no one knowing Lya harbored these fears. Sure he never really saw his sister interact with his wife, but he just summed it up to Lyanna being Lyanna, who at times could be untrusting of others.

Pushing his hair back, wanting to take a seat yet wanting to continue pacing, the need to hit something or better yet someone for the way his sister was screaming for the last seven hours out in pain, the midwives who would leave the room walking out with sheets covered in Lyanna's blood.

Seven fucking hells he shoulda killed that fucking cunt Rhaegar when he had the chance to. She was birthing his children and the man was nowhere in sight.

"I can see the head," a midwife yelled out as Ned moved from the wall he was standing next to, ready to run inside of the room, his brother distraught of the argument he had with Lya the night before, blaming himself after she tried to convince him to send a raven to the capital, while he told her Robert would never do this, he would be here.

_Like hell he would,_ Robert would probably be hunting inside of the Wolfswood while the rest of them would be here waiting to hear the sound of the crying babes.

"Where do you think you're going, Ned? Sit down the birthing room is no place for a man unless that man the maester." Rickard said tightening his grip on his middle son seeing the hurt in those Stark grey eyes of his knowing Ned blamed himself Lya was giving birth so early before her time.

"I should be in there on my knees begging her forgiveness, I was stupid."

"She already said it wasn't your fault but her's," Benjen pipped in, unsure what else to say, his thoughts scattered worried for his sister, trying to remain strong least he broke down in front of his family, including Eldric Tallart who their father had offered to stay guard with them for what he did for Lyanna.

* * *

"I can't do it." Lyanna cried as another pain rocked her lower body making her feel like her insides were being split apart.

"My lady, I can see the babe's head you need to push on my commands," Walys advised as the three other midwives busied themselves helping him, the girl had lost much blood already and was weak in her state.

"I told you to stay put, I should've tied you to the bed with your sheets, it's too early for the babes to be coming now."

"You're not helping Nan," Walys snapped, "just try and give her words of encouragement and keep her cool with the wet rag." He looked up from between the she-wolf's small legs that were being held by two midwives while the other held her hand, as he advised her once more. "My lady, I'm sure you want to meet these beautiful babes of yours." _Alive,_ he left out trying to not tremble and remain calm, not wanting to imagine Ice coming down on his head on a block where both Ned and Brandon would surely hold him down on, while lord Rickard chopped his head off. Benjen he knew would just stand there cursing his name to the seven hells.

"Please my lady for your sake and that of the children, push I can already see the head."

Lyanna whimpered, the pain intense as Wayls counted down each time he needed her to push until a piercing wail could be heard filling the room with its cries.

"It's a boy, my lady," Walys said cutting the navel string handing the child off to the tall grey-haired midwife who was holding Lyanna's hand just earlier, as she rushed to clean the boy off.

"Oh, this one looks like a Stark, milady." The midwife hollered placing the babe near its mother, "what name will you give him?"

Lyanna looked from the lady to her son, her eyes tired, her body weak, unsure what to say until her lips went to say, Jon, only to add a few extra letters to his name. "Jonnel, that is his name." 

"Good strong northern name," the midwife replied unsure what else to say, not liking how paler the lady had become, just as the maester shouted he can see the other child's head.

There was so much blood now, "my lady, I know you are tired and weak, but just once more I need for you to push." Walys all but begged causing old Nan to send a prayer to the old gods. The girl's body was too small to be birthing twins plus it didn't help that she never listened.

"Another boy," Walys said knowing just what two boys meant in the game of thrones coming from a woman the prince claimed his second wife.

"Give him here," old Nan said bringing the crying red-faced boy over to his mother, she would let the she-wolf see both her sons. "Lyanna sweet girl, look at your son, my child, see him, name him."

The door burst open, causing maester Walys to tremble in fear, seeing the look in all four Stark male eyes, as Ned pushed past a stunned Brandon who now looked like he wanted to murder everyone in there along with his father. "What's going on in here?" Brandon yelled, while his wife took a crying Jonnel from his cot, trying to soothe the crying babe. The room smelled of blood and the winter roses Benjen had picked for her that morning. "Is someone going to answer me?" He shouted punching his hand into the stone wall feeling only the heat emanating from the wall blocking out the pain. He would not cry.

Nan stepped closer, as one of the midwives screamed they needed more cloth, ' _it's too much blood,_ ' to the younger one, busying herself trying to rip sheets apart, while the maester worked to save Rickard's daughter. "Name your son before the old gods take you, child."

"Jaemon," Lyanna whispered just as her eyes closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys already know, I've fallen in love with the name Jonnel, and it's easy to keep his name as Jon for me by shortening it down, instead of sometimes being like, wait what Targaryen name did I give him again? haha!  
> The next updates are as follows: Seasons of My Love, Reign of Ice and Fire, and Family Secrets and Desires.  
> Also, let me know what fic you want me to update next. Whichever fic as the most requests will be updated.  
> Until next time stay safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading 🙂  
> This is how Jon's twin will look grown-up  
> 


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